His hands moved down her back, over her hips, caressing them, encouraging her to relax. As he sensed her melting to him, his fingers moved down her leg and started to draw the folds of her dress upward until the only barrier between his hand and her thigh was a thin chemise. A deep moan from Victoria stopped his progress, brought him back to the present. Jamie dropped his hand, let the material fall back to her ankles. He once again grasped her shoulders with a light touch to push her away before stepping back with a ragged breath.
She stood rooted in place, her glazed eyes open and fixed on his. Neither spoke. Reality came back to her in small increments. The initial kiss, his lips across her face as his strong arms encircled her to draw them together. His slight beard scraping her cheeks, sending pulses through her body. One hand sliding down her back, pulling on the fabric of her dress. All the sensations she’d fantasized about for all those years. But he’d stopped.
“We’d better get back.” It was the only explanation he gave.
She blinked, trying to restrain the tears that were just on the surface, waiting to spill onto her cheeks. She wouldn’t let him see the effect he had on her. Nodding her understanding, she began walking at a brisk pace down the hill towards her parents’ home.
“Torie, wait,” Jamie called, but she didn’t pause, didn’t look back. Just kept moving with dogged determination to reach the house and the safety it offered.
The door slammed shut behind her. Jamie could hear the lock as it was moved into place. Even though he’d wanted to talk with her about her time as Hagan’s prisoner, he didn’t try to stop her. Her refusal to turn back to him when he called had made it plain he’d done the right thing by stopping what had been about to happen. She would have let him take her. He knew it. And it would have been wrong for them both. This couldn’t happen again. He needed her to tell him the truth about the past. Perhaps then he could put it all behind him and decide whether or not to ride out of her life for the last time.
Chapter Ten
“Hey, Sam. What brings you out this late?” Niall was surprised when the deputy arrived just after supper.
“Niall,” Sam nodded, shaking the offered hand. “Need to speak with Jamie if he’s around.” His voice was somber.
“Sam, what’s going on? Would you like a whiskey?” Jamie had walked up behind Niall with a full shot glass in his hand and extended it to his friend.
“That’d be great. Thanks.” Sam accepted the whiskey and Jamie motioned him into the study where the others were seated.
Sam looked around, gauging just how much he could say in front of Drew and Will. He kept forgetting that they were now men, and mighty fine men at that.
“It’s about Mrs. Wicklin. There’re some complications about her husband’s disappearance and her kidnapping.” He looked at each of them but would leave it up to Jamie if he wanted the others to stay.
“Go ahead, Sam.” Jamie trusted his family. He had no misgivings about discussing any news with them in the room.
“Well, it appears that Wicklin’s alive.” The room went still at Sam’s words. No one made a sound as all eyes focused on the deputy. “Not only that, he’s claiming his wife’s kidnapping was a hoax, and that she was behind the attempt on his life so she could collect his aunt’s inheritance. I received a letter from Wicklin’s attorney, but with Sheriff Rawlins out of town, I thought it best to come out here, get your take on it.” Sam took a step forward, grabbed the whiskey bottle off the desk, and poured one more round for everyone.
Jamie sat dazed, pondering what he’d just heard. No matter what kind of person she had become, it was hard for him to imagine Victoria involved in a murder plot. He was still grappling with her passionate response to him last night on the knoll, deciding what to think, how to react. Now this.
“I thought he was reported dead. They found his body. Identified him. How do we know this isn’t some type of hoax?” Drew asked, surprise registering on his face as he tried to process the accusations. “And, if it’s true, where’s Wicklin been all this time?”
“Don’t know where he’s been, but that’s one of the things I mean to find out. It’s pretty complex. Wicklin says someone tried to rob him while he walked home along the docks. The robber took Wicklin’s possessions and was ready to leave when a third man stepped up, shot the robber, and pushed the corpse into San Francisco Bay. According to Wicklin’s attorney, the robber was about the same height and build as his client, and with the stolen items on him, everything pointed to the body being Hamilton Wicklin.” Sam shook his head as if trying to organize the information for his friends. “Turns out the man who murdered the robber is none other than Miguel Hagan, Victoria’s alleged kidnapper.”
“Hold on a minute, Sam,” Jamie interjected as he shot out of his chair. “Alleged kidnapper? I was there when she escaped from his ranch. She was running from him. She was the victim.”
“But did you see her with Hagan? How do you know she was kidnapped? Or, did she go with him as part of a bigger plan to go after her husband? Maybe she changed her mind and decided to get away from Hagan once she realized she no longer needed him. Do you have any proof she was his prisoner?”
“You know I don’t. Victoria had already escaped. Hagan’s men were following, shooting at her, when she ran right across my path. They demanded I turn her over. When I refused, both drew on me,” Jamie finished, but his mind was reeling with the questions Sam asked.
“And you killed them?”
“Hell, Sam, you know better than to ask that. I’m standing here, aren’t I?” Jamie’s temper rose, not at Sam’s words, but at the implications of the charges. Everything he’d believed about the kidnapping might be a lie, and Victoria was at the center, again.
“Once the men were dead, did you go back to the ranch to check things out? Find any evidence that would prove Mrs. Wicklin was kidnapped and didn’t accompany Hagan willingly?” Sam asked. He knew this was difficult for Jamie, and his friend was on a short fuse, but he needed answers if they were going to sort out this mess.
Jamie sat down on a nearby chair, his body slumped forward with his arms resting on his knees. He ran a hand through his thick hair then drew a deep breath. “No, Sam. I didn’t go back to the ranch. All the information I had pointed to her being a victim. There was no reason to try to find evidence to confirm if it were true. I took her and Tankard to San Diego, deposited him in jail, and brought Victoria here. Assignment over.” At least it had been for Jamie.
Niall hadn’t said a word since Sam had relayed the news. He wondered how anyone could believe that Victoria would be mixed up in a murder plot. Yes, she left unexpectedly years ago, but should that be a factor in the charges being leveled at her today? “Attempted murder. That’s quite a charge. Did the letter detail any proof?” Niall’s words were void of emotion but his eyes were sparking with disbelief.
“The attorney says he has witnesses and the proof needed to put her in jail. There’s a judge looking over the evidence. He’s trying to get an arrest warrant out on her. No telling how long that’ll take. Doesn’t look good.” Sam laid his glass down, grabbed his head and looked to Jamie. “Thought you should know, as I may have to arrest her.”
“Before that happens, don’t you think we ought to go talk to her, hear what she has to say? Everyone here knows my feelings towards her. I don’t trust her and know nothing about what she’s done the past seven years. She may be involved, maybe not, but she needs to tell her side of things.” Jamie wouldn’t allow what had happened last night to push him toward another mistake involving Victoria. She’d duped him once and he had no intention of letting her do it again.
“That’s reasonable,” Sam replied. “Give me a few days to see if I can find out anything more on Wicklin or Victoria. I’ll be in touch.” Sam nodded to everyone and strolled out the door, pondering the fastest way to get information before they confronted Mrs. Wicklin.
******
“Well, Jamie MacLaren and Sam Browning. Please come
in. Would either of you care for coffee?” Anna had been ready to leave for the mercantile when the two men arrived.
“Thank you, ma’am. No coffee for either of us. We need a word with Mrs. Wicklin. That is, if she’s at home.” At the worried expression on Mrs. Wright’s face, Sam continued. “We need to give her some information and ask some questions. Shouldn’t take too long.”
“Of course, Sam,” but her eyes searched Jamie’s for any clue as to what was happening. “She’s in her room. I’ll go get her for you.” Anna turned to walk up the stairs but found her daughter standing by the railing, listening to the conversation below.
“Victoria, Deputy Browning and Jamie are here. Said they have more information and need to ask you some questions.”
“I heard, Mama. Perhaps it’s about Ham’s death. Maybe they’ve found the killer.” Victoria knew she’d felt nothing for her dead husband, not in the beginning and certainly not now. His death meant little to her other than she was a free woman.
Victoria followed her mother down the stairs and found the two men standing, waiting for her. Her first look at Jamie since last night was a jolt. She wondered if he’d felt the same intensity she had in their kisses. She doubted it, as he seemed to have been able to back away without a second thought. He was closed and aloof. Even though their trip to Fire Mountain had allowed her some time to study him, he had kept his distance, staying away from her as much as possible. Perhaps that is what had made their encounter last night such a surprise. She’d been ill prepared for the impact, or the let-down.
“Deputy Browning, Marshal MacLaren, you wish to speak with me?” It was Jamie who drew her attention. She focused on him, and again, his eyes were devoid of emotion. Both men nodded, but it was Sam who spoke.
“Yes, ma’am, if you have a few minutes.”
“Of course, please sit down.” Victoria gestured to some chairs. Sam took one, but Jamie continued to stand. “Coffee?”
“Uh, no ma’am. Just some of your time.” Again it was Sam who spoke. “I understand when you left Fire Mountain seven years ago you’d just married Mr. Wicklin, is that right?”
“Yes. I married Hamilton and left for his home in San Francisco.” She glanced at Jamie, but he made no indication that her words troubled him.
“And you were still married to him at the time of your kidnapping?”
“Yes, deputy, that’s correct.” Victoria wondered where this conversation was going. She’d thought they were here to tell her that they’d learned who murdered her husband, but now she wasn’t so sure.
“I understand you were the caretaker of some property and funds his aunt, Mrs. Beatrice Wallace, left to you?”
“Well, yes. Ham’s aunt left money available to us each year for living expenses, so we could remain in her house and continue to run the restaurant she and her late husband had started. Aunt Beatrice designated me as the one responsible for how the funds were spent. My authority has been limited. Almost every expenditure must be reviewed by her long-time attorney and her banker, even the restaurant expenses. Hamilton managed the day to day operations of the restaurant, but had no access to the funds provided by Aunt Beatrice.” Victoria could feel her defenses rise at the direction these questions were headed.
“Beyond that, as I understand it, you were the sole beneficiary of the remainder of her estate if you stayed married to Wicklin for at least seven years. Is my information correct?” The deputy’s eyes focused on her, weighing every reaction. Jamie hadn’t moved from where he stood against the far wall, but his eyes never wavered from her face.
“No. No, that’s not correct. I only know of the annual allowance. There wasn’t anything else and she certainly wouldn’t have ever left it to me. Ham was her nephew. She raised him after his mother’s death. That’s who any other inheritance would’ve gone to.” Panic began to tinge her voice and she started to fiddle with the handkerchief she always carried. Jamie’s eyes moved to the scrap of fabric then shot up to her face. For the first time he noticed the initials JM were clearly visible on one corner. It was his handkerchief, the one he’d given her when they’d promised to marry.
“Are you saying you knew nothing about Mrs. Wallace leaving you her fortune? You didn’t know you’d inherit all of it if you stayed married to Mr. Wicklin for at least seven years?” Sam’s voice changed as his questions continued. They were still spoken in a soft tone, but with an edge, as if he didn’t believe her.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. She left me nothing, other than to insist I handle the finances from the annual payments designated in her will. Don’t you think if she’d left anything further that I would’ve been made aware of it?” Her temper rose and she fought to rein it in. Her temper and sharp tongue had always been her weakest characteristics. She could hold both in check a long time, but once released, they were almost impossible to stop before she said or did something foolish.
“Yes, you would think that, Mrs. Wicklin.”
“Are you going to tell me what this is about, or are you just going to pepper me with questions concerning things I know nothing about?” When he hesitated, Victoria stood up from her seat and charged on. “I want answers, Deputy, and I want them now.”
“That’s precisely what we want, also, Mrs. Wicklin, and we aim to get truthful ones.”
Victoria just stared at him. Her stomach clenched and her heart pounded in her chest. She worked to control her breathing before either man could notice how the questions were affecting her.
“Then perhaps you should leave and find someone you trust to answer your questions, because your tone has made it clear you don’t believe me. Aunt Beatrice designated me to handle the annual finances. That’s it. Period. But you probably already know that since I’m positive that two impartial lawmen such as yourselves would have contacted her attorney, Silas Dunsford.” The lawmen glanced at each other as she stopped to take a breath. “Now if the two of you would please leave, I have things to do. Things that don’t include being accused of lying.”
“He’s been found. Alive.” Sam stated matter-of-factly.
“Who? Ham? He’s alive? I don’t understand. I was told he was dead, that they found his body. How could he now be alive?”
“He was found by a Chinese fisherman several weeks ago. I don’t have all the details, but he wasn’t in great shape. Don’t yet know why it took so long for them to notify the authorities, but they finally did and he was able to prove he’s Hamilton Wicklin.”
She pondered this only a few seconds. “Chinese fisherman? I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” She stopped to think through the unexpected news, but there was only one good response. “Well, it’s good that he’s alive.”
“You’ll be wanting to see him, I suppose?” Sam continued in a low, cautious voice, not wanting to rile her any further.
“No. I don’t want to see him, Deputy. Not ever again. I’m glad he’s alive, but I’ve no intention of returning to him.” Her voice faded as she realized she might, in fact, have to see Ham again, if only to settle the finances and complete a divorce. “I’ll divorce him, but I’ll never go back to him.”
“Well, a divorce may be the least of your worries right now, Mrs. Wicklin.”
Her head popped up from where she had been absent-mindedly twisting the fabric she held in her hands. “Why’s that, Deputy?” Victoria asked but her stomach clenched again at the deputy’s tone.
Sam stood and walked toward her, until he was standing only a few feet away. He needed to gauge her reaction to his next words. “He says you planned to have him killed, and fabricated your own kidnapping to avoid suspicion.”
“What? That’s ridiculous!” Victoria glared at him, her eyes not wavering as they met his. “I was kidnapped by Miguel Hagan because my husband reneged on paying Hagan money he owed him. I refused to pay the debt out of the annual funds. Ham was furious, threatened to do all kinds of things to me, but his threats no longer had the same effect as in the past.”
She paused, thinking back on her life with Ham and her treatment at the hands of Miguel Hagan. She shook off the memories, took a breath and continued. “He was a cheat, a liar, a miserable human being, Deputy, but I would never have tried to kill him.” She walked over to the settee, lowering herself with as much dignity as possible, but her mind was on the accusations. She realized her nightmare might not be over.
Her mother, who’d been in the next room listening to the entire conversation, entered, walked over to her daughter, and turned to face the two men.
“I want you both to leave. Now. I don’t want either of you to ever step foot in this house again until you’ve come back to your senses.” She looked down at Victoria, then continued. “She may have hurt you terribly, Jamie, but I never thought I’d see you stoop to such low tactics to get your revenge.”
At that, Jamie’s eyes snapped up to Mrs. Wright’s, but he held his tongue as she continued. “She’s been through an awful experience and you come here accusing her of things she could never do. And accepting the word of a scoundrel, someone his own aunt didn’t trust, over Victoria’s. How could you do this to her?” Anna glared at Jamie, the pain evident on her face, but he continued to keep his neutral.
At that moment the front door opened and Hen stepped in. The words he heard coming from Anna stopped him cold.
“Now leave. Don’t ever come back. Either one of you.” Anna’s voice had lowered, but was just as hard. Jamie knew her well, and God help them if Wicklin’s accusations turned out to be lies. He’d lose friends he’d known most of his life, very good people who deserved none of this. And Victoria would’ve suffered through a humiliating experience for nothing.
Sam motioned to Jamie and they headed for the door.
“Sam, Jamie, what’s this about?” Hen asked, but the two just tipped their hats and walked past him.
“Anna? Victoria? Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” His words fell on deaf ears. His wife sat, arms wrapped around her daughter, rocking her to help ease the pain-filled sobs that wracked Victoria’s small frame. Anna looked up at her husband and shook her head, then rested her chin on Victoria’s lowered head and kept rocking.
Faster Than the Rest Page 6